


Introspection

by InkStainedFingers



Series: Scrapbook Tales [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 23:59:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkStainedFingers/pseuds/InkStainedFingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire, as always, doubts. Enjolras, as usual, reassures. A lazy morning and a quiet conversation.</p><p>'Do you think I'm insane?'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Introspection

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the third instalment of Scrapbook Tales, in which Enjolras and Grantaire are lazy and sweet. Who knows, when I actually have time during the school holidays I may even write a modern AU with a plot. This is partly inspired by that tiny scene in Howl where you see Aaron Tveit in these awesome glasses and him and the guy playing Allen Ginsburg (who has dark hair...) snuggling in bed...
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr at inkundermyfingernails.tumblr.com if you fancy it. Comments and kudos are much appreciated :)

Mid-morning, and they haven't left bed yet.

The light is bright and fresh. The noises of the city come distantly, as if through water, though the window is open and a breeze snatches into the apartment briefly from time to time. They are buoyed up, floating, swimming in white sheets, the sole clear surface in the room, a rare island of serenity. Everywhere else, from the chair to the dresser tops to every inch of the floor is strewn with speech drafts and paintings, sketchbooks and pamphlets, the creative outpourings of two brilliant minds. They couldn't afford a large apartment after Enjolras was cut off from his parents, but neither mind. The bed is cool, but their skin is hot, pressed together from shoulder to knee, still naked from last night.

Enjolras is reading, wearing the large, thick-rimmed glasses that were fashionable fifty odd years ago and Grantaire often says he is almost certain that he is the only person ever to have seen them on Enjolras's face, since he never wears them out of bed. He is holding up a battered book with one hand and the other strokes lazy circles on Grantaire's shoulder. He feels Grantaire's head shift against his arm and his listless gaze drop from the ceiling to Enjolras and become focussed, and senses a question before one is asked.

"Do you think I'm insane?"

Grantaire's voice is serious, and a familiar, soul-embedded insecurity shadows his tone. Once a question like this might have annoyed or confused Enjolras, but now he simply dog-ears his place in the book and lays it carefully on his bedside table before turning onto his side to face his boyfriend fully.

"I think you're beautiful."

The reply is as serious as the question, directed with as much intensity as Enjolras can muster into Grantaire's eyes, willing him to hear how utterly sincere he is, wanting to use the passionate fire that so awed his boyfriend to burn away all of his self-doubt.

Grantaire's expression shines, but darkness still lingers in the corners of his eyes, so Enjolras leans up on his elbow to kiss him until there is nothing but light in Grantaire's smile.

They lose Enjolras's glasses in the papers on the floor and lose the rest of the morning somewhere between the tangled sheets.


End file.
